The Song of the Bandit and the Gypsy
by xaikawilleatyoursoul
Summary: A certain cerulean-haired teenager falls to his death on the night of his birthday, and the friends who attended the party are left behind to pick up the pieces. Shaken but unfazed, they all seem to be able to agree on only one thing: Kuroko would not have killed himself. The main suspects? Each other. The motto? Trust no one. The aim? Find the killer.


**A/N:** Alright, I'm just going to say off the bat that my updates WILL be slow. I hope you will bear with me, though, as I've invested quite a bit into this. Hopefully, this is going to be the first multi-chaptered fic that I actually manage to finish.

Right, so, I've always wanted to write something like this, and I got inspired by Galileo Galilei (if you don't know who they are, go check them out, their songs are amazing!), thus why this fic is named after one of their songs. Despite the mellow melody after which this fic is named after, this fic will be dark, and I advise you against reading it if major character death is a turn-off for you (actually, no, please give my fic a try I am desperate). Constructive criticism is welcome, but please do not leave flames! Do review! Do know that my updating speed is directly proportional to the number of reviews. [crossposted from AO3]

 **Disclaimer** : Love to Galileo Galilei. Fujimaki-sensei owns all the characters.

* * *

 **ガリレオガリレイ** **/18**

 **[** _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_ **]**

The lights were too bright. It hurt his head, but he couldn't very well close his eyes. Perhaps this one time, the harshness of the lights were a far better discomfort than what he saw when he shut his eyes in seek of a reprieve from the luminosity.

"Please, Kise-san," the policewoman coaxed, and though she tried to be as gentle as she could, her grating voice did nothing to soothe his immense headache, "try to remember what you can."

Of a little after midnight on January 31st, 2014, Kise Ryouta remembered very little.

There were two things he knew for certain that occurred that night.

"Um, well…" He began half-heartedly again, knowing that no matter how much he racked his brains, he wouldn't be able to scrimmage anything to say that would be of any _use_ to the policewoman, "I don't remember much, really, you know… We were all drunk, which was irresponsible, I know, but all the same, we never thought…"

His voice tapered off shakily, and he had to take a sharp intake of breath. No, none of them thought such a thing could happen; and especially to that one subject in particular.

Two things occurred that night, for cert.

The first…

"It's quite alright, Kise-san," the policewoman reassured impatiently. "Now, if you could just tell me; where were you during the time of Kuroko Tetsuya's death?"

… Kuroko Tetsuya's death.

Kise wished the policewoman hadn't spoken the last bit of that sentence. The reality of it hadn't really hit him yet, but it was slowly sinking in. He supposed that the tears would come when the shock wore off, but presently he felt only one crashing, inevitable emotion.

Disbelief.

But Kuroko Tetsuya was dead, and there was nothing he could do to reverse this fact.

"Um, during the time that you say Kurokocchi died…"

And despite himself, despite the fact that his innards seemed to be made of lead, Kise blushed.

" _I can't believe it took two hours of coaxing for you to finally realize, dolt."_ A deep, reverberating voice, hovering right over his ear, sending chills down his body. _"I_ want _you, so badly."_ He shut his eyes and tried to steady his heart's palpitations; he remembered very little of it, but the recollection of whatever that his memory had managed to instill almost made him gasp.

" _And I know you want me, too, Kise."_

He chewed on his lip to inhibit the shiver that rose up his spine, and instead studied how his hands kept shaking in the cradle of his lap. The policewoman observed this reaction curiously, and it was with suspicion in her voice that she spoke next.

"Kise-san, you understand that you need to tell me everything, right?"

"I do, I do," he explained hastily, his blush deepening, "it's just," he met the policewoman's eyes and tried to convey the message silently, "it's a bit private…"

No such luck.

The policewoman sighed in exasperation and rubbed one of her temples with her fingertips. "Kise-san, I am a reasonable woman. But this is concerning the death of a person – of one of your best friends, I might add – so this act of beating around the bush is wearing my patience very thin. No matter how dirty or lecherous you may _think_ what you're hiding from me is, I'm ready to assure you that we will not disclose the facts of your private life to the public."

She raised both eyebrows significantly, and Kise's already flushed cheeks deepened in color. Despite himself, he was slightly irked. _So, he already told her? Who would've thought he was the type to kiss and tell, you know?_

"What I simply need you to tell me," she said gently, as if talking to a young child, "is what you were doing during the time of Kuroko Tetsuya's death. Could you do that for me, Kise-san?"

The brushing of his fingertips on his burning skin; the intimacy of their torsos rubbing against one another; his lips on his back; the amazingly _full_ feeling, topped by a splash of somewhat pleasurable pain… he remembered very little of it, but he knew for certain that it happened.

"I was in Kuroko's unoccupied room… with a friend of mine," he began hesitantly, "we were drunk, very much so…"

The second being…

"And I ended up having sex with him. Aomine Daiki."

Well, that.

The policewoman nodded finally, satisfied with his answer. "See, now that wasn't very hard, was it? Aomine-san has confirmed that as well." Despite this, she gave him a displeased look, one which he reciprocated. The lights were still hurting his head, he had a hangover, and one his best friends was _dead_ , damn it, she could cut him some slack.

She nodded to him, scribbling something on the sheaf of papers upon the metal desk. "You may leave, Kise-san."

He bolted from the chair, not bothering with formalities. As soon as he was out into the hallway, immensely dim and more _real_ in comparison to the surrealistic lights of the interrogation room, the finality of the event finally hit him. His footsteps staggered, and Kise found himself leaning back against the wall next to the door, feeling very weak at the knees. He felt as if he had the wind knocked out of him, and as he shut his eyes, the gruesome image returned to him again; cerulean hair matted with blood, eyes wide and unseeing, limbs at a horrifying angle, splattered on the sidewalk…

There was no coming back from that.

There was no _erasing_ that from his head.

Kise inhaled shakily and lifted his eyes to the ceiling as his knees gave away and he slid to the floor of the police station. He thought, and thought, and thought, trying to push the repellent picture out of his mind.

But Kuroko was dead.

And it was all their fault.

He pondered this for a second longer, and then the next breath he took betrayed him, catching in his throat. Finally, while his head throbbed and his heart ached, silent, agonized tears rolled down his pale cheeks.

* * *

Outside the police station, chaos had reigned.

"BUT I'M TELLING YOU, I _KNOW_! KUROKO WOULDN'T HAVE KILLED HIMSELF, DAMN IT!"

Eyes still red but looking nonetheless as impeccable as ever, Kise Ryouta hadn't expected to be greeted with such a loud exclamation no sooner than he had stepped out onto the parking lot. Everyone who'd had come to the party had gathered there after their respective investigations, in a tense circle. The loud volume of the exclaimer hurt his head, but the pain behind the words were, perhaps, worse.

The captain of Seirin's basketball team, Hyuuga-kun, placed a reassuring hand on Kagami's shoulder, but the auburn-haired teenager was not sated. His cheeks streaked with tears, eyes raging and mouth twisted into a scowl, hair more mussed up than usual… Kise didn't think he had ever seen Seirin's ace player look so miserable.

It didn't take long for him to analyze the situation.

Akashi, never Kagami's biggest fan, gave him a cold, seething look. "So, what you're suggesting is that one of us did it? One of us killed Tetsuya?"

The use of the name _Tetsuya_ earned Akashi a sharp look from most of the group. Indeed, his multicolored eyes were looking unusually cold. Kise repressed a shudder; he really detested this side of Akashi.

At the words _killed Tetsuya,_ Kagami's eyes widened and his fists clenched tighter. "I don't freaking know, okay? All I know is…" his voice seemed on the verge of breaking, "All I know is that he's freaking _dead_ , and none of us were able to stop it!"

"And you standing here screaming at us rectifies this fact, how?" Akashi's expression was cool and calculating as he crossed his arms over his chest, the disapproval extruding from his demeanor deepening with every word.

Kagami made to retort angrily, but Hyuuga gave his arm a firm tug, so he just ended up glaring at Akashi in furious disbelief. Momoi, looking extraordinarily shaken herself, placed a quivering hand on Akashi's arm gently. "Akashi-kun…" she cautioned carefully, "he's not thinking straight… just let him"—

"And when, pray tell, is that idiot ever thinking straight?" Midorima interjected, his scowl deeper than usual as he adjusted his glasses. His hand remained on his forehead even afterwards, however – a feeble attempt to hide the emotion that betrayed his usually impassive face.

"Shin-chan…" Takao admonished gently. He looked extremely forlorn without his usual smile. Kagami looked more livid still, but the group fell silent, finally turning their attention to their last arrival.

The one who addressed him first was the last person Kise wanted to see, really.

"How'd it go, Kise?"

" _How do you like this, Kise? Heh, you want more, don't you?"_

Kuroko, dead on the sidewalk. Kuroko, who probably could have been saved if either of them had paid attention to him instead of relieving their sexual frustrations on each other.

Face burning with shame and throat thick with self-contempt, he lifted his eyes to meet Aomine's blue orbs briefly. He found questioning and hesitance within them, and he knew his own chocolate orbs held doubt and hesitance as well. Nonetheless, he knew what Aomine was asking, and he knew how to respond to it, as well.

The others didn't have to know about their sin, anyway.

"Well enough," he murmured, breaking eye contact, and he was amazed by how hoarse his voice sounded.

He was silly to have hoped… of course, after what had happened, they would have never been able to be together normally again. Kise _knew_ this with certainty. And yet, silliness had won out, and he had ended up hoping for some essence of normality, anyway.

 _Normality's out of the question,_ Kise thought bitterly, studying the stressed assemblage of teens, _these guys are already at each other's throats._

And for good reason, too.

Because Kagami was right about one thing, at least.

Kuroko Tetsuya most certainly did not commit suicide. They _all_ knew that.

He scanned the large crowd; the Seirin team, his old middle school friends and their usual respective partners. If Kuroko had not committed suicide, then somebody here was guilty of murder.

But who?

And more importantly, _why_?

Murasakibara was the first one to catch the distrust in Kise's eyes, and he scowled while taking a bite of his Maiubo candy.

"Nn… Kise-chin agrees with Bakabrows here, I think…"

All eyes turned to him, and Kise flushed but remained steadfast in his gaze. He considered everyone carefully before cautiously wording his reply.

"Not entirely… but… you guys _do_ know that Kuroko wouldn't have just… taken a leap, right?"

He expected reprimands, at least from Akashi's side if not anyone else. The redhead did consider him coolly for a second, but so did everyone else. And then, a second later, almost simultaneously their eyes were on each other, scanning the group as Kise had done earlier, each asking himself the same, silent question.

 _Which one of you did it?_

"This is stupid," Aomine scoffed, breaking away from the group and sauntering off, "I'm not going to do this with you idiots."

"Aren't you quick to crack under the pressure, Aomine-kun?" Himuro, unexpectedly, spoke up quietly. A chill – pardon the cliché – seemed to traverse over the company. Aomine stopped in his tracks and looked back, expression contorted in shocked fury.

"Are you accusing _me_ of murdering Tetsu?"

Everyone turned their surprised eyes to Himuro, and he stared back unfalteringly. "I don't know, but I can see that Taiga and Kise-kun are correct. Kuroko-kun wouldn't have jumped off himself, especially on his birthday, where he had been having as much fun as the rest of us."

This was a fact. Kise had known – they had _all_ known, even before this discussion that Kuroko had not, and would definitely not have, committed suicide. But _kill_ Kuroko? _Murder_ Kuroko? None of them could comprehend why any of the others would do such an atrocious thing. Or perhaps it hadn't been one of them, perhaps it had been an outsider… but still, why?

 _Why would anyone kill Kurokocchi?_

Either way, it was apparent to everyone that the main suspects here were one another. Each studied the other uncomfortably, tensed under the stressed blanket of silence that had fallen over them. Kagami was the only one who made a sound, his entire 6'3 form shaking with mediocrely hidden sobs.

Breaking the silence, it was Furihata, shaking and nervous and distraught as he was, who asked the inevitable question.

"But then…" He took a deep, shuddering breath, faltering under the imposing glare of his companions, "where do we go from here?"

It was a good query, but suddenly, nobody felt like looking at the other very much, anymore. Kise stared at his own Converses, toeing the rough asphalt as he thought the question over.

Where _did_ they go from there?

A new form of anguish filled him slowly, and it deepened as the silence stretched on. The shocking and sudden pain was unable to diminish the misery he felt for Kuroko's death, but managed to overshadow it a bit none the same.

He didn't trust _anybody_ there. Even Aomine, and he had been with Kise the entire time the incident had been speculated to occur.

"I guess that settles it, then."

Akashi was the one who finally spoke, and as cool and collected as he was, even _his_ voice betrayed a variety of heartbroken emotion. There was an essence of finality in his sentence, and everyone present – Kise included – knew the implication behind his words.

Once they leave the parking lot, they would never be able to all come together again.

Aomine was the first one to go. He buried his hands deep in his pockets, lips pressed in a thin line, and turned on his heel to walk away. Just before he did so, however, he met Kise's eyes and the blonde was startled by the bout of emotion present in them, but the exchange was far too brief for him to be able to analyze their message.

"'Right, goodbye, then."

Momoi, his oldest and most beloved friend, made a sudden, jerky movement, as if to make to go after him, but in the end, she retained her composure. Instead, she turned her rosy eyes downward, looking equal parts ashamed and confused. Kise himself was finding it difficult not to sprint after him, cling onto the fabric of his jacket, and beg him not to go, but even _he_ found it suspicious that Aomine was so crass about the entire event.

And anyway, aside from the fact that they had a trashy, drunk and common one night stand, he had as much of a bond with Aomine as the rest present. Since nobody else seemed too bothered, he figured he shouldn't go after him either.

" _Mm… trust me on this, Kise… I'll make you feel damn good…"_

Despite his reservations, he pursed his lips, eyes prickling familiarly again. And yet, he did not move. One by one, everyone said their inelegant goodbyes and left the parking lot, but Kise stood in his spot for a long, long time, staring in shock at where Aomine's retreating back had been, even long after he had disappeared from his vision.

* * *

Perhaps by chance, Kise bumped into Kagami the very next day. He looked no less distraught than the day before, and the dark circles around his eyes indicated that he, too, hadn't slept very well that night. In his hand, he held a suitcase, and he seemed to be in a hurry.

"Kagamicchi." Kise noted, cautious but surprised.

Kagami's eyes flickered to him blankly. "Kise." He greeted in an unenthusiastic, hoarse voice.

He played around with the idea of asking "How are you?" but then mercifully thought better of it. Instead he flickered his eyes to the suitcase pointedly before impeding Kagami's path.

"Are you leaving?"

Kagami considered his options, and then finally lifted his eyes to Kise's. Again, the cold agony within the usually fiery orbs shocked him. "Yeah," he muttered, carefully monotone, "to America."

"America…" Kise repeated slowly. "Forever?"

He regretted asking the question, as Kagami's eyes immediately filled up with distraught tears again. But thankfully, he regained his composure and instead pushed back his hair with one hand, turning his gaze downward.

"I don't know, Kise… everything here, the streets, the restaurants… it's all Kuroko. I don't think I can handle this."

Kise understood this very well. Rather than commenting on it, however, he softly uttered a question that was more a statement or a declaration than an inquiry.

"You loved him, didn't you?"

Kagami did not answer. Nor did he need to. Instead, he took a sharp intake of breath and gave Kise a tortured glance that expressed more than anything he could have done with words.

Kise felt bad, but did not apologize. He stood there silently as Kagami murmured a lame excuse that he did not hear, and pushed past him briskly.

After watching him turn the corner, Kise pulled out his phone from his pocket and pressed the redial button, not even bothering to look at the screen, where his call logs indicated that he had called a certain number almost fifty times within the past six hours. He stood there on the sidewalk for almost fifteen minutes, pressing redial again and again, hoping that the person on the other end of the line picked up.

"Damn it, Aominecchi, you can't just do this to me…" He finally whispered to himself miserably.

Another fifteen minutes passed. When Kise finally slipped his phone into his pocket and turned on his heel to walk back home, he was overwhelmed by one crashing, inevitable feeling – one that he hadn't felt in a long, _long_ time.

Loneliness.

* * *

The funeral was a small, modest affair, held just on the outskirts of suburban Tokyo. Kuroko's family had wanted to keep it to themselves, and perhaps it was just so. None of his friends would have turned up, anyway.

Even the weather seemed to be mourning the passing of such a pure soul. Gray clouds loomed over the entire prefecture, but the air was still; dead, one might say. Not even a piece of grass rustled. The trees were silent, seemingly bowing their heads in respect.

Kuroko Tetsuya Sr. knelt down by his grandson's grave and placed a lone, white rose atop it before murmuring a few words of blessing. Then, he straightened up and headed over to where his child and her husband, accompanied by his distraught wife, stood a few ways away, each of their expressions colored in varying degrees of misery and pain. He closed his arms around his only daughter, and together they began to cry.

Far away, in a darkened café somewhere in Kyoto, Akashi Seijuro placed his empty cup of coffee atop the modernly attractive table. His heterochromatic eyes lit through the din, cold and unforgiving to anyone that may cross their path. Next to him, an effeminate young boy with pouty lips and long eyelashes swept back his long hair from his face before sparing his captain a knowing glance.

"You know who did it, don't you, Sei-chan?"

"Of course." Akashi replied without hesitation and feeling. "And I'm going to do everything in my power to make him pay for it."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you liked it. Please, please, review. Reviews are for me what candy is to Murasakibara, and what porn is to Aomine. Save a life.


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